


Let Me Show You The Words Of Love

by PumpkinLily



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: And Back Chat, Breaky Week 2019, Brian and John are sweet together, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Freddie and Roger make a quick appearance in the story, Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Love songs, M/M, you can guess the period where the angst is situated in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-08 07:23:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21472222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinLily/pseuds/PumpkinLily
Summary: John and Brian's relationship over the years, through the songs they've written for each other. Six songs, six moments in their love story.
Relationships: John Deacon/Brian May
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38
Collections: Breaky Week





	Let Me Show You The Words Of Love

**Author's Note:**

> I was supposed to finish this fic earlier, but whatever-
> 
> I wanted to write soft Breaky content (since there's not that much of it), and the prompt "Writing a song about the other person" really spoke to me. Brian and John both wrote heartfelt songs about love and I wanted to imagine what it would be like if their songs were inspired by their relationship with one another. I've combined with the "First kiss" prompt, though the focus is on the songs.

_She Makes Me (Stormtrooper In Stilettoes)_

John took in hands the paper sheet Brian handed him. He silently started to read the words written on it, and Brian waited, nervous. It wasn’t just any song of his composition. It was a love song. He addressed a female pronoun in it, but when Freddie read it, he immediately knew the song had been written for John. 

“Show him your song dear. And then- Tell him what you really feel.”

_Tell him?_ This new song was why it existed in the first place: a place where he could express his love, of which he was certain would never be reciprocated. John was straight, there was no way he’d have a chance with him. To his words of doubts and uncertainty, Freddie provided warm gestures and support. He had been oddly – at least for Brian’s tastes – insistent about confessing his feelings. In the end, his enthusiasm managed to bring him a bit of hope. If Freddie thought he had a chance with John, then maybe, it was true. 

But the rejection was still a strong possibility. Brian didn’t want to think about how his unwanted feelings could spoil their friendship. 

Eventually, John laid down the sheet, and looked at him. He was smiling, but Brian recognised the self-depreciated smile he had sometimes when they talked about their songs. 

“It’s beautiful. Have you thought about putting it on the album?”

“Thank you. About that I-” His lips squirmed for a moment. “…I don’t know. Maybe?” Freddie already loved it, and he didn’t think Roger would have objections. “I mean, I really like it, but…”

“You should. I think it’s great.” His smile faltered. “Much better than what I could write…”

He frowned. “Deaky, don’t say that.”

“But it’s true. Freddie, Roger and you, you’re so talented, and not only in writing songs. Next to you, I’m-”

He wasn’t always confident in his own abilities, but there was no way he’d let John put himself down. “Deaky, no. You’re great. We all have our way of writing songs, and just because yours is different doesn’t mean your songs would be bad. You’re talented too, and I look forwards to the moment where you’ll show us your own writing.”

A discreet shade of red coloured his cheeks. “…Thanks.”

The silence settled back in the room. John’s eyes went back to the lyrics, and Brian thought about how he could confess. But the more he thought about it, the less coherent his potential words were. The thought of backing out occurred, but fortunately it was quickly swept off his head. Freddie’s kind and enthusiastic words rushed back, and a wave of confidence invaded him. 

“…Deak-”

“She’s lucky.” He said, looking back at him. “…Your girlfriend, I mean.”

Brian blinked, surprised by his words. “I- I don’t have a girlfriend, Deaky.”

“…So this song isn’t inspired by anyone?” 

He stayed silent, but his reddening face talked for him. Lying would’ve been futile. He was a very bad liar.

“…There’s still a lucky girl somewhere, then.” He was smiling, but there was something off with his smile.

“I-” His throat felt dry all of a sudden. “Deaky.”

“Yeah?”

His heartbeat went crazy. “…This song… isn’t about- It’s not about a girl.”

John’s eyes opened wider. “…Oh.” Other than the surprise in his eyes, his face was neutral. “…Okay.”

Brian was relieved to see a small smile on his face, but he still hadn’t told the most important.

“…And I-You see-I wrote this song about you.” He let out, gaining another shade of red.

John blinked a few times, and his mouth opened slightly. He went almost as red as Brian, whose cheeks were on fire, and who was certain his heart would soon either explode or rip open his chest. For a short moment, the room was silent. Brian waited, his eyes locked into his own, growing more nervous each second passing.

Then, slowly, John got closer to him, and laid his hands on his waist. The contact was warm, pleasant. Brian felt like he was stuck in his spot, unable to move. He could see the hesitation on the bassist’s redden face. 

“…I’ve never… done anything with a man before.” He confessed in a low voice.

“I-I don’t have m-much more experience.” The guitarist replied, torn between focusing on how cute he looked and thinking about what he could say to ease the situation. “…Deaky, I… I’m not asking you to do anything right now, just- I-I had to tell you.”

Shyly, one of his hands went to his waist, and his other rested on his soft cheek. His thumb brushed against his lips. He felt the need to say something else. Something he had wanted to say for quite some time now.

“…I love you.” He whispered, his heart in his throat. 

John stayed still for a few seconds, and Brian felt the grip on his waist tighten. He leant forwards, and the taller man instinctively lowered his head. Their lips met in a gentle, shy kiss, which didn’t last long but still made him feel breathless. As if he was ten years younger, a flustered teen kissing someone for the first time. 

Eventually, John leant back, an awkward smile on his face. “…It was nice. I-I think I could do it again, with you, in the future.”

Brian responded with a bright smile. It was a wonder his heart was still running at this point.

  


  


**-***-**

  


_You’re My Best Friend_

It took some time for John to write something that truly expressed what he felt for Brian. Maybe he didn’t have his boyfriend’s talent at using words to create elegant, deep lyrics, but his words were just as heartfelt.

_Ooh, you make me live,_  
_Whatever this world can give to me,_  
_It's you, you're all I see…_

As Freddie read the song, or rather sang it, he looked at Brian, whose soft eyes were filled with awe. He felt a large smile grow on his face; he was incredibly proud. Hopefully, his bandmates would agree to let it figure on the new album. He didn’t dislike Misfire, but this one was far better.

“…Oh, Deaky, that’s magnificent!” Freddie exclaimed once he finished. 

“’So sickeningly sweet.” Roger added, but he was smiling too. “Great song Deaky. See, you can write beautiful songs too! Bri, tell him-”

For a response, Brian walked to him and gave him a loving kiss, which he happily reciprocated. Both rested their hands on each other’s waists in a warm embrace.

As they leant away, love and affection was flowing through their eyes. “That was lovely, Deaky. I- Thank you.”

“No, thank you Brian. I don’t think I could ask for a better partner.” He responded, before kissing him again.

  


**-***-**

  


_Teo Torriate (Let Us Cling Together)_

Originally, Brian had been meaning to write a song-tribute to their favourite country in the world, Japan. The country which had welcomed them warmly, where they had been treated with care and respect, where they had felt like the Beatles while they still weren’t big in England. The chorus of this love song was written in Japanese, beautiful and emotional like the rest of the song.

He had thought about Japan, but unsurprisingly, his boyfriend also had been a source of inspiration. John, in a way or another, always made his way into his love songs. 

The song would be a masterpiece, with Freddie’s wonderful voice and an instrumental just as wonderful. But for now, he could give the lyrics to read. 

Freddie didn’t have enough words to tell how he loved the song. Roger asked where were the wedding rings. 

“Are you going to sing it?”

“Oh, no, I thought about something special for the last verse, a powerful sound. My voice wouldn’t feel right for what I want to convey. Freddie will sing it.”

“I’d be honoured to, dear. It’s the least I can do to make sure this masterpiece make us all cry.”

John also loved it deeply. The final result, with their instruments and careful, elaborate music, would be astonishing. And this wonderful song was for him – and Japan, but Japan understood how important the bassist was. 

He was also working on his own love song for the album. Being able to express his feelings through a song felt truly great. People always appreciated love songs, and he did too. He never needed to mention Brian’s name; the man was never too far away from his inspirations. They loved each other, and hopefully, it would continue for years.

  


**-***-**

  


_Back Chat_

Things hadn’t always been easy in the studio. Honestly, they’ve never been easy. Freddie, Roger and Brian always had been passionate spirits, and creating songs always went par with heated discussions. And since their previous album, he had taken a more important part in the songs realisation – and the arguments which inevitably occurred sooner or later. Nothing too serious though. Even if things seemed bad, once they were back home, or at whatever hotel they were staying, all sources of negative feelings caused by their music quickly disappeared. 

But recently, things _really_ hadn’t been easy. 

There was a multitude of factors; they always had creative differences when it came to music, but never in ten years had they been disrupting them so deeply. He loved disco, Freddie too. Roger wasn’t a fan, Brian definitely hated it. Coupled with Munich, its numerous clubs with numerous opportunities to drink, party all night and come in the morning with heavy eyes and a hangover, the relatively easy access to drugs, it was devastating. They were tired, easily on edge, and consequently clashes, violent clashes, often occurred. Not only between the four of them, but also between Brian and him. 

In disco music, there wasn’t much guitar. And that was what he wanted to do, the direction the album was taking. To say Brian had trouble accepting it was an understatement. 

The times of _You and I_ had never seemed so far away. Since a few weeks, it had been only fights, anger, frustration, a mix of negative feelings straining their relationship. 

_You burn all my energy,_  
_Back chat, back chat,_  
_Criticizing all you see,_  
_Back chat, back chat,_  
_Analysing what I say,_  
_Back chat, back chat,_  
_And you always get your way…_

He still loved Brian. But he was tired. Tired of his insistence, his rambling about the important role of guitar; when he disagreed with something – and he often disagreed these days – things quickly got vocal, even nasty. He had tried to stay civil and not worsen the situation, but all of this was getting on his nerves, and he needed to let it out somewhere “safe” before he’d snap and yell at his boyfriend things he might regret later. 

Of course, if he was to finish the song, and present it to the others, it most probably would fuel the conflicts more. 

Especially since he had the idea of not including guitar.

  


**-***-**

  


_Las Palabras De Amor (The Words Of Love)_

He’d been horrible. They had both been at fault, honestly, but he still had been horrible towards John. 

He wished he could take back what had been told after reading _Back Chat_’s lyrics, and learning there would be no guitar. He had acted and talked to his boyfriend in a way he never knew he was capable of. Words full of reproaches, fuelled by fatigue, anger, frustration, fears, insults even. 

They both hurt each other badly. The evening after their fight, he was miserable. Good thing kind, patient Freddie was here to let him cry in his arms, and listen to his regrets. 

He didn’t fear what John could think of him now – or rather, it wasn’t his biggest fear. The bad thoughts the bassist certainly had for him, as for the silence he’d been giving him for a week, outside of necessary exchanges to work on the album, were deserved. At the same time, it scared him. Not only he didn’t know what John wanted, he feared his boyfriend swallowed his suffering and kept a distant face. He’d hurt him, and the guilt was eating him alive.

He didn’t dare approach John, while there was so many things he wanted to say.

“Deaky, I’m sorry for what I’ve said. Please forgive me-”  
“Deaky, what are we now?”  
“Deaky, I miss you.”  
“Deaky, I still love you. Please-”

He knew staying silent wasn’t doing any good. John was probably only waiting for him to talk and act, and he knew a simple “sorry” won’t be enough. They needed to have a serious talk. He only hoped it would end well. He terribly missed having John close to him, exchanging sweet words, gestures of love and affection, seeing his smile.

_This room is bare,_  
_This night is cold,_  
_We're far apart and I'm growing old… _

Since their fight, he’d started to write a song. Something in which he could pour his feelings. A part of him was telling it to simply drop it and focus on making up with John, but he had to put down his thoughts. He believed his boyfriend deserved a love song, especially after what he had done. 

_But while we live,_  
_We'll meet again,_

John will listen to him. He only hoped he didn’t screw things up for good. 

_So then my love,_  
_We may whisper once more,_  
_It's you I adore…_

  


**-***-**

  


_One Year Of Love_

John remembered when he wrote _You’re My Best Friend_ for Brian. Ten years had passed; it felt like an eternity, and nothing at the same time. Back when they were young, had long hair – though it wasn’t exact, since his boyfriend always kept his curly mane relatively long – and weren’t one of the most successful rock band on the planet. They had come a long way, in many fields, had shared happy, sad, difficult moments, not only as bandmates, but also as lovers. Back in 1974, their relationship started, a mutual first time with a man. If he had been blissful, he had been unsure, and maybe, deep down, a bit afraid about the future. He loved Brian dearly, he hoped nothing would come between them, hoped their relationship would stay strong for the upcoming years. 

Of course, there had been ups and down, and obstacles along the way, but love never deserted his heart. His new song perfectly illustrated this. He’d been impatient to show it to Brian, and now, he was silently waiting to hear what he thought of it. Though the smile that grew on his face as he read didn’t leave much of a surprise. 

Once his boyfriend had finished reading the lyrics, he put the sheet on the nearest surface, and went to hold John’s waist, as they shared a tender look. 

“That song is beautiful Deaky.” He went silent for a moment, and his smile turned apologetic. “…Sorry, maybe it’s a bit lame. Your song deserves much more words.”

“I don’t need anything more Bri.” He whispered, before kissing him. “You like it, it’s the only thing I need.”

Brian responded with a smile, and another kiss. When they leant apart from each other, he noticed his boyfriend had a lopsided smile. He had something in mind.

“…I’ve thought about the instrumental for the song.” He confessed. “…And… I want to include saxophone.”

“That’s a nice idea Deaky.”

He rested his hands on his boyfriend’s chest. “…I mean, the saxophone would replace the guitar.”

Brian’s smile faltered. “Oh.” He stayed silent for a moment. “…I can’t say I’m not slightly disappointed. But I’m curious about the result, and for many other reasons, I won’t fight for a guitar solo this time.”

His left hand left John’s waist, and went to gently squeeze his hand. Feeling the ring on his finger always was reassuring. His dislike of _Hot Space_ and its music was still strong, but at least a few good things had come out of it, and John’s proposal was without a doubt the best of them. 

“…Thank you.” John replied with a larger smile. “…I can’t wait to start working on it.”

“So do I. I really like it. Too bad I don’t have a song to complement it.”

He frowned slightly. “What about _Who Wants To Live Forever_?”

“It’s not exactly the same. I mean, I’ve written it for Highlander. I’ve thought about you while writing it, but…”

His hand slid to his cheek. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I don’t need dozens of love songs. The ones you’ve written are enough. The most important is you telling me directly how you love me.”

“I guess it’s true.” Brian pressed further his hand against his’, and he brought him closer. “Can I use my mouth for that?”

John’s other hand slid to the first button of his shirt. His smile turned cheeky, his eyes sparkled with desire. “I’d be disappointed if you only used your mouth.”

Both Brian’s hands passed to his waist again, and one slid under his shirt to caress his skin. John managed to undo the button with his thumb and index, gaining an easier access to his chest. Their eyes lingered on each other, and they stayed still for a short moment. Brian still had some important words to say.

“I love you Deaky.” 

“’Love you too, Bri. Now, how ‘bout you forsake words and use your mouth for something else?”

He chuckled. “You’re so impatient.” 

They exchanged a last glance, before their lips met in a long, passionate kiss. Sometimes, words simply weren’t needed.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it :) Don't hesitate to leave kudos and a comment, they're always appreciated.


End file.
